“You don’t need recipes if you have the principles of cooking. If anyone is so stupid they can’t do something as simple as this without a recipe, they’ll never be able to cook at all!”
Thus spake Julia Child as Jacques Pepin cheerfully grated russet potatoes on a mandolin. She grabbed a little handful of the shredded pomme de terre and tossed them back onto the counter for emphasis. This was from one of many episodes of “Cooking in Concert: Julia Child and Jacques Pepin.”
Julia Child changed the way we cook in this country. She taught us that cooking is not a chore to be finished quickly; it is a joy to be shared. Her iconic “Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume One” was published in 1961. Her program “The French Chef” was the first national cooking show, debuting in 1963. Her career on television continued on and off up until 2000 when she was well into her 80s. She was a writer, a teacher, a cook. She used words like “dearie,” “marvelous,” “phooey,” “yuck,” and “yum.” She believed you should “taste, taste, taste” as you cook. Frivolous people were “fluffies.”
On Sept. 11, in advance of last weekend’s Food Lab conference in Southampton, Almond restaurant held one of its popular Artists and Writers dinners. This one was to be in honor of Julia Child, with recipes from “Mastering
Some squares of pissaladière Nicoise (p. 151) were already on the tables when we sat down. These are a delicious and savory way to begin a meal, whetting the appetite with sweet caramelized onions, salty black olives, and anchovies on top of pizza-like dough.
The dinner was sold out upon being announced. Julia’s appeal will never fade away. In the days leading up to the dinner, there was a flurry, no, a blizzard, of emails between Almond Zigmund, artist and wife of the chef and co-owner Jason Weiner, and Geoffrey as to how the evening’s program would progress. I had already met with Geoffrey twice to discuss his career with Julia, questions I could and could not (or should not) ask, and anecdotes.
When I asked, “What was Julia’s favorite meal?” he would reply, “That’s what Julia would call a ‘media’ question.” Yes, sir, I guess that’s why I’m asking. (It was roast duck and I got the recipe!) The schedule of the program was still changing up until the day it happened. This made me nervous, so I tuned them out and focused on research. Then it dawned on me: Almond is an artist and Geoffrey is a producer, ergo, they perhaps have a precise vision for exactly how the evening would proceed. As they concluded that our interview segments would amount to no more than two 10-minute sections, I kind of relaxed. Kind of.
Everything was served family style, with big platters and bowls of the food placed in the middle of the table for guests to help themselves. It was fun to look around the restaurant and see a good number of friends there, including Susan Spungen, who was the food stylist for the movie “Julie and Julia.”
I got to peak into the kitchen and got a glimpse of rows and rows of roasting pans filled with lobster thermidor, ready for their final bake.
The next course was paté de veau et porc avec foie (p. 568) with cornichons, other pickled vegetables like asparagus, red onions, and wax beans, some lightly dressed frisée, whole grain mustard, and slices of baguette, served with a Cote de Brouilly. Jason had brought out his copy of “Mastering the Art” to show Geoffrey. “I stole this from my mother, I think it’s the 25th edition! I’ve always wanted an excuse to make lobster thermidor.”
And then my tendency to burrow down the rabbit hole of research came in handy. The lobsters weren’t done yet so we had oodles of time to talk. We all learned that Julia Child was involved in every aspect of each production, not just the star in front of a camera. The first time they met, Julia suggested Geoffrey start cooking breakfast for them. She never endorsed products and she would probably think that most food shows nowadays “are for fluffies.” If you were a guest at her house for a meal, you would pitch in and help; everybody participated.
Her favorite cocktail was a reverse martini, all vermouth with a splash
She disliked dark restaurants and would carry a full-sized flashlight. She was funny and flirty and fearless. She loved being a guest on “Good Morning America” when Charles Gibson was the host, but she walked off the set of a Regis Philbin program. She scoffed when Rosie O’Donnell suggested they use jellybeans in lieu of real beans to practice flipping with a frying pan. She took teaching cooking seriously.
The lobster thermidor (p. 221) was a triumph: tender bits of meat tossed with butter, onions, celery, and mushrooms packed back into the shells. This was served with a chardonnay from Santa Barbara, where Child spent the last years of her life. This was followed by a boeuf à la Catalaine (p. 321), “a hearty dish from the Spanish-Mediterranean corner of France” as she described it. It was rich with tender beef, onions and herbs, vermouth, tomatoes, and rice.
The evening ended with a wonderful rendition of tarte tatin (p. 638) topped with tangy crème fraiche and served with tiny glasses of Channing Daughters Muscat de Boom, which I assume is a riff on Muscat de Beaume de Venise.
The evening concluded with the iconic “Saturday Night Live” skit of Dan Aykroyd’s impression of Julia Child, which she loved and often showed at dinner parties. In the skit he bones a chicken, cuts his hand, and faints from loss of blood, but not before imploring the audience in Julia’s singsong voice to “save the livers!”
It was a night among friends, the lobsters were divine, and the wines well chosen. Mr. Drummond said, and he would know, that it was exactly the kind of night that Julia would have loved.
Here are some of the recipes from “Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume One” that were served at Almond. And, yeah, now I gotta say it: “Bon Appetit!”